Befuddled

Consiousness fades from existance here,
with a penchant for releasing it's riegns.
Context becomes impersonal with electric training.
It is also rendered meaningless when no meaning came from it.
The moonlight creates a wake in which a softer light is cast to bask in.
Creature of the night with no qualms, no visage of malicious intent.
A quiet and graceful guesture without yaw or voracious movement steadily and silently carrying on with a heart full of content.
There is nothing drastic within but rather a baleanced scale towards either extreme.

Muddled

Idiosyncrasies quietly collaborrating an incorrigible conundrum all the while enthralled with the lofty zephyr so intangible.
These idiosyncrasies of such a vernacular lighty tread the path of countenance veering from the unsightly and insipid, lost to an elated yet depressed notion.
Melancholy slowly marinades within, having no discernment for which it implies.
These thoughts have become rogue and nomadic, seeking by the course of moving.
They float, fly and swim with no discerning path, nothing to come across.
Substance is possibly the goal, if there were a goal in mind.
Down the path the tread heavily yet lighty, while slowly a seering heat is at thier heels.